


Adventures of a Mer-Chaser: The Dragonborn’s Revenge

by DirtyScrolls



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dunmer (Elder Scrolls), Fantastic Racism, Fear, Gags, Humiliation, Knifeplay, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Past Rape/Non-con, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape, Revenge, Rimming, Slapping, Sloppy Seconds, mention of gang rape, mention of rape with object, unwanted arousal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:36:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26411248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyScrolls/pseuds/DirtyScrolls
Summary: A Grey Quarter couple get what’s coming to them.
Relationships: Hired Thugs/Ambarys Rendar, Hired Thugs/Malthyr Elenil, Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Ambarys Rendar, Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Malthyr Elenil, Malthyr Elenil/Ambarys Rendar
Comments: 12
Kudos: 26
Collections: Adventures of a Mer-Chaser: The Dragonborn and the Grey Quarter





	Adventures of a Mer-Chaser: The Dragonborn’s Revenge

**Author's Note:**

> Though written as a stand-alone (with, I hope, enough background info to give an idea of what’s been going on), this story is part of a semi-sub-plot involving the proprietors of the New Gnisis Cornerclub. 
> 
> You might want to read the other stories with Ambarys Rendar and Malthyr Elenil, “Ambarys Rendar Asks for It” (in which our, uh, hero assaults the title character) and “Turnabout is Better Than Fair" (in which Ambarys and his partner attempt vengeance), especially if you enjoy this story. 
> 
> Hope you like it, heed the tags, and please let me know if you have ideas for future “adventures”.

The last time he visited Windhelm, Kordin had happened to catch a glimpse of Ambarys Rendar’s handsome face in the snow-dusted market, and found himself blushing hard. 

Of course, he had vividly remembered the night he had tied the mer to his bed in the run-down upper room of his own tavern, the erotic satisfaction of hearing him beg. 

But then he’d thought of what he had gotten in return--dragged off to the wilderness so that Rendar and his friend could take their (admittedly delicious) revenge--and the blood had rushed to his face. 

Kordin knew he could not let things stand as they were, let himself be intimidated by a pair of lowly grey-skins. He had some time to plan before his next visit to the city, and he took advantage of it. 

“Very tasty elves you have us handling here,” said the well-armed Orcish leader of the lowlives Kordin had employed, “Some of us might want...” 

He shrugged, expecting Kordin to understand. 

Kordin understood very well, and would have asked for the same in the Orc’s position.

In front of Kordin were two nude, gorgeous, quite deserving Dunmer, both gagged and tied hand and foot, arms behind their backs, kneeling on the dirt floor of the cave in front of a messy spread of straw and furs. 

Malthyr Elenil was a paler, more delicate, grey than his companion Ambarys Rendar, and he had a similar pleasingly lean build, honed by constant work rather than fighting. Kordin stood behind them, admiring their fine strong backs and rounded buttocks, and the soles of their feet. Both had pretty feet—not quite rivaling Ravyn Imyan’s or Revyn Sadri’s, but pretty.

“If you do what I’m paying you well to do and stand guard, you’ll get to watch,” said Kordin. The other two Nord thugs stood behind the Orc, seeming to be backing up his words. “And you can do what you want with them when I’m done,” he promised, “Trust me--I have a grudge to satisfy.”

“Alright, friend,” agreed the Orc, with a tusky grin, “No harm in giving us a little bonus.”

“No harm at all,” Kordin said, “Now man the entrance and cover me, and stay quiet like we agreed, or forfeit the rest of your pay.”

The Orc went to the mouth of the cave. The other two retreated to the back of the cavern, watching Kordin. He’d known he’d want backup to deal with the two sneaky Dunmer while being able to enjoy them fully, but he almost regretted paying all three thugs, when one would have likely been enough. He had also been ready to pay off the Windhelm guards as they walked the poisoned elves out of the gates, but no one had stopped them, either believing the two were drunk, or not caring—probably the latter.

Anyway, he could afford it, and maybe having an audience could be… interesting. It would humiliate the captured Dunmer further. Kordin turned his attention back to the first target of his ire.

“How’re you doing, beautiful?” he asked Rendar, fingering the gag in his captive’s lush mouth, then reaching to undo it.

Rendar immediately spat at the Nord, and was just as promptly slapped for his trouble. His dusky grey skin turned deep pink from his cheekbone to the corner of his mouth.

“Bold move, pretty elf,” Kordin said, grabbing Rendar’s longish hair, which he’d loosened from the leather thong that held it, when he’d stripped him. “But I don’t think you’d be quite so spirited if I cut your friend’s sweet grey neck open.” He pointed with his new Daedric dagger at Elenil. “Would you?”

Rendar’s ruby eyes went wide as he regretted his impulsive gesture. He shook his head emphatically. 

Elenil looked just as scared, and just as good.

“Didn’t think so.” 

Kordin crouched to get a better look at Rendar. He tipped the elf’s head up with a finger under the chin. The mer was even more stunning with his hair falling around his worried, angular face, those blood-colored eyes clouded with fear. 

“The Orc’s right. You do look damn tasty like this, you know that? I mean, you’re fucking edible most of the time, but like this?” He looked briefly at Namira’s ring, knowing how literally he meant the words, “I think it’s perfection. If I were your friend here, I’d want to fuck you into the ground. I bet he does. I bet he would.” 

Kordin turned to Malthyr Elenil, whose dark hair was slicked in a manner that reminded him of Ravyn Imyan. He mussed it, pulling lightly.

“I fear I’ve neglected you, handsome. Rest assured I didn’t mean to.” He took out the Daedric dagger again. “Hold still.”

Elenil looked down, trembling, 

Sithis. He was so utterly vulnerable.

Kordin held him from behind and caressed him from his hard flat belly to his light-grey throat with the dagger. Elenil trembled again, his breathing deeper, as if trying to calm himself.

“I wanna see what you do together.” The Nord pressed his dagger a little into the silky skin of the man’s grey neck, his prick awake and interested as sharp metal met smooth flesh. “You’re going to fuck him for me.” He stroked the dagger down the Dunmer’s trim torso. “Show me what you like to do to him.” 

Kordin spoke softly, almost lovingly, now running his fingers through the frightened mer’s hair. 

He undid his gag and cut his bonds, nodding at the brawn backing him up to be on alert.

Malthyr didn’t know if he could. He feared he was far too scared and angry to get it up, and he still felt disoriented from the strange paralysis poison Kordin had used on both him and Ambarys as they lay in their bed earlier that night. 

He looked over at his lover. Ambarys was in exactly the same position they’d had the Nord in when they had undertaken Ambarys’s revenge plan. Naked, hands tied behind his back.

His love for Ambarys was almost unspoken; it was just there. They’d started out working together to run the Cornerclub, sleeping on the top level on a couple of bedrolls, separated by a few feet. Then one night Ambarys had gotten drunk and kissed him, and the kiss had made him shiver down to his bones because he’d been looking lustfully at the sour mer for some time. Waiting until he fell asleep, and then masturbating as quietly as he could over how his ass had stuck out as he bent to retrieve something, how smoothly he walked from place to place. He’d imagined he’d be very responsive in bed.

He’d been right. Ambarys was demanding when being fucked, and sensually rough when fucking. But there hadn’t been as much between them since the damned Nord had burst into their lives and Ambarys had become further consumed with rage. 

Even what they had already done had not satisfied him. He’d talked about killing the Nord, and it frightened Malthyr. It would be trouble they didn’t need, to say the least.

“Look at him,” the Dragonborn said, tracing his finger along Ambarys’s back lightly. Malthyr now felt a surge of his own sudden anger at the Nord, for touching Ambarys. “Isn’t he just too fucking much? Pretend I’m not here. Really, look at him.”

It was good advice, if he had to do what he had to do. He breathed deeply.

He tried entirely concentrating on the body of his lover, the definition of it, the warm grey color, the straight coarse glossy hair that fell to his shoulders.

Ambarys’s eyes were big and full of resignation.

“It’s fine, Malthyr,” he said, his voice low. 

They heard the arrogant Nord laugh lightly.

“Glad his lordship approves,” he said.

Malthyr wanted to tell the cruel human to hold his fucking tongue, but he focused instead on placing his hands on Ambarys’s shoulders, massaging very carefully. He had no idea what to say to his lover, so he kissed him on the neck, though he knew everything he did was now a display for the Nord and his thugs. 

He could feel the Dragonborn’s eyes crawling along his skin; his hunger was palpable. He imagined saliva accumulating inside the pink, dangerous mouth. 

“Is that how you kiss him?” asked the Nord.

“Yes,” Malthyr stated flatly. He turned back to kissing Ambarys’s graceful neck. Ambarys responded with an instinctual sound of pleasure. He loved when Malthyr kissed his neck—Malthyr in particular. He said he was excellent at it.

“You should bite him,” the Dragonborn said.

“You’d have a very easy time as a vampire,” Ambarys had told him once, provoking Malthyr to bite him playfully, which in turn instigated another session with Ambarys bent over the bed, asking for Malthyr’s prick in various colorful ways. 

Malthyr was sorry he couldn’t bite him more often, but Ambarys saw everyone in the Grey Quarter everyday. Both men preferred to keep their nightly habits private, though Malthyr guessed most people suspected they fucked. He was proud, as he knew there were a few others who wanted Ambarys.

Now Malthyr nipped at Ambarys’s neck, firmly enough to please the Nord, from the sound of it. Something twisted in him. He licked the reddened area in apology. 

He couldn’t help getting somewhat excited. Ambarys just always did it for him. He was, for all his flaws, a strong-minded, industrious, and very handsome man who cared for Malthyr and their neighbors. His features were balanced and well-pronounced. He had a thick enticing mouth and endless red eyes. His agile body sometimes made Malthyr hard in the middle of a work day. 

So he tried not to blame himself for getting hard now, under the Nord’s eyes, the watching thugs’ eyes, while suckling gently at the skin of his best friend’s neck and holding him. It was an awkward position for him—apparently visibly so.

“I guess you don’t tie him up often,”

“I don’t.”

Gods, maybe I should? 

The thought came unbidden. Blushing, he admitted to himself that Ambarys was very easy to appreciate like this. As he always was.

“Too bad you don’t,” Kordin said, stroking Malthyr’s sensitive ear. “But now’s your chance.”

Malthyr shied away from the Nord’s hand, resulting in a hard pinch on his ear. 

“Go on,” urged the Dragonborn, his hand now gentle on the same ear. “Keep at it.”

Kordin looked on as Malthyr Elenil obeyed him, as he pushed the hair away from his friend’s face, cupped his jaw, and began kissing him—careful, soft kisses between two lovely mouths. 

He lazily palmed his cock as Elenil stroked his other hand up and down Rendar’s bound arm reassuringly. Rendar leaned into his friend’s kisses. Both Dunmer were pink with the shame of being watched, but Elenil went in anyway, giving his friend’s mouth a deep tonguing, as if they were alone. 

“You gonna do the same to his ass, pretty thing?” asked Kordin, smacking Elenil’s own fine posterior. “Get in there and lick his sweet hole for me?” The Nord caressed Elenil’s jaw and lips. “Do you do that often?”

Elenil reddened more and pulled away from his touch, almost hiding his face in Rendar’s neck. Kordin tugged on his hair.

“I asked you a question, grey-skin.”

“Yeah,” Elenil said in a small voice. 

“Then bend him over and do it, gorgeous. You want him to be ready for the fucking he’s going to get.”

“I--”

Another yank on Elenil’s hair.

When Kordin let go of his hair, Elenil kissed Rendar and said something low in his pointed ear. Kordin let that slide, because as soon as he was done whispering sweet nothings, Elenil took Rendar gently by the shoulders and hip and maneuvered him so that he was ass-up, so the Nord had an exquisite view of his buttocks, spread thighs, and the back of his balls. Elenil took care to turn his friend’s face so that it wasn’t directly pressed into the dirty furs and straw that constituted the cave’s only amenities, yet his cheek was cushioned. He bent and kissed his back soothingly, clasped his bound hands. Rendar seemed to sigh.

Kordin laid an impatient smack across Elenil’s round ass.

Elenil moved back and positioned himself on his knees behind Rendar. As he bent, Kordin got another lovely view, of a paler grey backside and genitals. As the Nord changed vantage points he could see that Elenil was partially hard. He took hold of the grey-skin’s cock—it looked unusually thick for a Dunmer’s, though shorter than Rendar’s.

“You have a sweet prick, you know. Looks like it could be quite the mouthful. Hmm, you two beauties ever suck each other?”

Elenil answered in the affirmative, without much inflection.

The Nord let go of the mer’s prick with some reluctance and pushed his head toward his friend’s raised rear end.

Elenil parted the other elf’s cheeks and began tenderly licking at his dark little hole with the tip of his tongue, as if testing. Kordin was fascinated, wondering if they were always this slow, watching intently. Soon enough, Elenil grew bolder, spreading his friend wide with his fingers and lapping at him with his whole tongue. Kordin got into a rhythm of masturbating as this delightful spectacle went on.

The two thugs in the back nudged each other.

Many other Nords secretly went for mer, Kordin had noticed, even during his mostly-drunken stint with the Stormcloaks. Soldiers who would proudly declare their ardor for “true” sons or daughters of Skyrim did just as he had done, paying Red Year refugees for an hour or two of dark pleasure, and a few even took extra time in the dungeon with Thalmor prisoners. He remembered one especially unyielding and very striking Altmer, who had finally broken and cried the third time Kordin had raped him.

He turned from pleasant memories back to the equally pleasant scene in front of him. Elenil’s nose and mouth were buried in Rendar’s crack, his hands holding the muscular cheeks open. His eyes were half-closed, as if he were doing as Kordin suggested, pretending he wasn’t there. There was a faint slurping sound.

“You like to finger him?” asked Kordin, smiling to himself.

“I—yes.”

“Do it now. Get him ready to take your cock. And stroke yourself while you do it.”

Elenil sat back with his long legs under him and ran a finger along Rendar’s dampened cleft, found his hole and prodding softly, slowly.

“You usually oil him up inside?” Kordin asked, finding the details of their fucking erotically interesting.

“Yeah.” Elenil looked down as he answered. He had one hand on his own prick as he opened Rendar up.

“I’m not wasting any on him right now. He deserves a burning asshole. So do you. But I bet you know just how to hit him right. How to make him like it.” Kordin leaned in to lick the mer’s ear. “I made him like it, you know.”

The elf continued to finger his friend in the same steady, gentle way. He acted as if he hadn’t heard Kordin.

“He got hard. I would’ve jerked off his beautiful cock, but I figured I’d let you take care of him. Did you?”

“He hated it,” said Elenil through his teeth.

“I didn’t ask if he liked it, handsome.” Kordin kissed the elf’s neck. “I asked if you took care of his hard prick after I finished with him.”

Elenil shook his head, his teeth still gritted.

Malthyr had gone upstairs to find Ambarys struggling with the leather strips that held him. He had untied him immediately, asking what had happened. Ambarys had indeed been half-hard, which had confused Malthyr at the time.

Ambarys had jumped up as soon as he was free, yelling about killing “that motherfucking Nord”. He’d grabbed his dagger from a pile of his destroyed clothes on the floor, then stopped and punched the head of the bed, saying, “Damn him! He’s probably already long gone”.

Still muddled from the poison Kordin had used, Malthyr hadn’t quite remembered him until Ambarys explained what he had done. Then he’d angrily recalled the man seated in the corner—some kind of dragon-killing Nord hero, the “Dragonborn”--who liked to come into the club and pretend not to stare at them. The glint in his blue eyes and the discreet little leer on his face when he ordered his drinks had always made Malthyr uneasy, but until that awful night he had kept to himself and paid good coin. 

“That’s a shame you didn’t,” Kordin said. “He sure needed it, at least he did when I left. Now, he’s probably ready.” He placed his hand on Elenil’s shoulder. Elenil had three slim fingers inside his friend, the tight dark ring around them shiny with spit. “What about you, love? Are you ready to show me how you fuck him?”

Elenil didn’t reply. He just eased his fingers out, one by one. Rendar squirmed at this, and Elenil let go of his own prick, wiped his hand on his thigh, and stroked over the small of his friend’s arched back. 

Elenil lined up his hard prick with the dampened hole and slid into his lover, holding onto his hip as he probed. He rubbed circles over Rendar’s back with his other hand, while Rendar got used to his girth. He touched his hair lightly. This softness made Kordin impatient, but he held himself back, wanting to see what else the elf would do.

He turned his head to see that the Nord thugs in back were still watching the two Dunmer raptly, as if they had never seen anything like it before. 

Elenil bucked gently against his friend’s raised buttocks, his juicy member disappearing into the deep cleft. His thrusts were slow and careful, just as his fingers had been. His eyes were focused on Rendar’s bent back and bound arms.

“You know he can take it harder than that,” Kordin sneered, giving Elenil’s pretty ass several hard smacks. 

The mer sped up without a word, at the same time caressing Rendar’s lean hips. Kordin wondered if he always held him that way. Rendar shifted his torso on the furs. Kordin could see his glittering red eyes widen as his friend’s movements quickened behind him. He looked at him and smiled.

“Enjoying yourself, Rendar?” he asked, not expecting an answer. Rendar only grimaced slightly in response and shut his eyes, as if he too were trying to ignore the Nord’s watchful presence.

Malthyr could not help his rising pleasure. He wanted to take care not to hurt Ambarys, but he also wanted to get through this quickly, to spare both of them further humiliation. He could feel sweat dripping down his face.

Ambarys’s familiar warmth and tightness enveloped him, his familiar beautiful body was offered up before him… and in such an unusual way. He stopped himself from dwelling on just how disturbingly alluring his lover was in his bonds. Instead he let the sensation of Ambarys’s snug hole and silken skin overcome his thoughts. He began to pick up more speed and depth.

“I’m so sorry, Ambarys,” he said quietly (though the Nord heard, and laughed). Malthyr laced the fingers of one hand with his lover’s bound hand, and felt Ambarys squeeze.

“No reason to be sorry, elf,” the Dragonborn said, moving so that he could see under Ambarys. “But maybe you need to give his cock a little attention.”

Flushed, afraid of what the evil bastard might do if he refused, Malthyr reached under his lover’s body. Ambarys’s prick was mostly flaccid, not that he had expected anything else. The angle was not usual for them, his arms must hurt, and the Nord and his thugs were watching. Malthyr felt himself blush more deeply in consternation at his own arousal, even as he continued to fuck his lover. He handled Ambarys tenderly, as he did when he was already sensitive from coming, though now, in the midst of this strangeness and fear and shame, he just wanted him to feel some comfort. Ambarys reacted, as he always did to Malthyr’s touch, and his cock began to thicken.

“Good boy,” said the Nord, watching how Malthyr’s hand moved on Ambarys’s shaft. “Best not to be selfish.”

It was done soon enough. Malthyr imagined they were alone, allowing himself only to feel Ambarys around him. He thought of the time they had made love in a room at the Silver-Blood Inn, managing to blot out the bright roar of the busy tavern area and the sounds of two other men arguing in the next room. He thought of his first time taking Ambarys, how excited and anxious he had been, wanting to please him, how Ambarys had urged him on. His climax was flat and mechanical, nonetheless. His body couldn’t forget where he was.

Kordin could see the grey-skin’s orgasm in the twitch of his well-carved features, the way he held Rendar’s hips. 

“Yeah, fill him up,” he said encouragingly, pressing his hand against Elenil’s firm ass as the mer came. “Get it all inside him.”

Elenil’s head bowed forward. His slim body looked tired, deflated. His dark oiled hair fell around his face, sticking to the sweaty, blushing pale grey skin.

Kordin took him by the upper arm and pulled him out of Rendar forcibly, eliciting a small lewd wet sound as the softening prick came free of the tight pucker. Ejaculate from Rendar’s opening dripped and glistened in the torchlight.

“Now clean him up for me,” the Nord ordered. “I might want to stick my cock in him later, and I don’t need filthy grey-skin come on me.”

This last part was a lie, of course, but it had the right effect, making Elenil’s face turn redder. 

Elenil avoided looking at him as he bent down to delicately spread his lover and just as delicately lick his own semen from his crack. 

“Suck it out of him, gorgeous. That’s good. Now, swallow it.”

Kordin petted the Dunmer’s head, satisfied with the way he suckled at his friend’s hole, extracting his own cream.

“You’re so much nicer when you’re like this,” he told Elenil, his hand still in his hair. “So much nicer than the other night. No need to worry too much about that, though. I intend to pay you back.” 

The Nord’s hand moved down Elenil’s neck and back to pinch his left buttock.

“I wish I could’ve fucked you when I had your friend, but I was too tired, and, besides, he begged me not to. I do hope you understand.”

He pulled Elenil by the hair away from his lover’s ass and looked at him closely. His mouth and chin were covered in seed and saliva. His face was a bit more squared than Rendar’s, handsome in that particular Dunmer way. His eyes were slanted and dark red, his nose strong, and he wore a small close beard and mustache. His wet mouth drew Kordin’s special attention. It was just as fine and thick as his friend’s.

“Yes, he seemed particularly concerned about you. ‘Don’t hurt him’, and stuff like that.” Kordin dragged Elenil toward him and ran his hands over his nude lean body, pinching his nipples lightly. He apparently wasn’t as sensitive as Ravyn Imyan. Kordin glanced over at Rendar, still bent with his cheek against the furs. “He didn’t want anyone else in your ass. Or anywhere near you.” The Nord rested Elenil in his lap, feeling up his limp prick and recently-drained balls. “Not very generous of him. Lucky for us he’s tied up, huh?”

One of the Nords on guard laughed, and Kordin gave him a dirty look for interrupting. He had, after all, given strict instructions regarding quiet. He wanted his time with the two Dunmer, and he wasn’t planning on sharing till he was sated.

He told Elenil to get on hands and knees on the furs, making sure the man would give Rendar a good view, legs splayed, ass upraised. Then he hastily prepared him, with rude fingers and spit. Elenil was naturally tight, and his fear and exhaustion made him tighter, so it was difficult. At several points, Kordin slapped his ass and ordered him to loosen up, or things would be worse for him.

“See this fine hole?” he asked Rendar, spreading his lover’s cheeks so Rendar could see the spit-covered pink-grey asshole. “I’m going to fuck it good and hard and deep. Nothing you can do about it.”

Rendar closed his eyes. Kordin pulled on his loose hair.

“Now, I don’t like that, love. Open up those fiery eyes for me.” 

Elenil’s pucker accepted his cock reluctantly, but that didn’t stop his thrusts. Kordin was very aroused after watching the elves and playing with them, and he was afraid he wouldn’t last long enough to take full advantage of this beauty. He pumped his hips vigorously nonetheless, enamored by the feel of the slick, unwilling passage, and the sight of Elenil’s back muscles clenching with pain, the sound of his agony. 

He looked back at Rendar. He was obediently watching the rape of his lover, which only excited Kordin further, made him move his hips faster, grip Elenil harder. 

“Shor’s Bones, he feels good,” he told Rendar, “Looks good too. I bet you fuck him all the time.” He leaned in to kiss Elenil’s neck. “Gods, I’d have him bent over every night.”

As he nibbled at the mer’s neck and tapered ear, he rocked his hips rapidly, prodding deep inside his heat. Elenil made pained noises through his closed teeth at each thrust. Kordin held his hips hard enough to bruise--at least, he hoped it would, imagining darker grey and violet marks against the light ashen skin, reminding the Dunmer of what had been done to him. 

He came then, pushing as far as he could into Elenil’s beautiful ass. He flashed a smile at Rendar. The bound elf looked miserable, defeated.

Kordin pulled out and put his arms around Elenil, feeling up his sweaty body as he kissed and bit at his lips.

“I didn’t know you could be so sweet,” he said, stroking Elenil’s tangled hair. 

After binding Elenil again, Kordin spent much of the night switching between him and Rendar, fucking them with fingers (he eventually allowed them some oil), cock, and the hilt of his new dagger, until the mer were raw, teary-eyed, and howling in pain. Then he offered Rendar and Elenil to his hired thugs, as promised, and stayed to watch them use the handsome elves. The Orc was especially enthusiastic, taking both, while each Nord chose only one for himself.

Close to dawn, Kordin cut the leather straps, threw their clothes next to them, and left the two Dunmer alone in the cave. 

Rendar and Elenil held one another limply on the dirty, come-stained furs, too exhausted and terrified to move.


End file.
